


The Gathering-In of Andrew Carter

by DixieDale



Series: The Life and Times of One Peter Newkirk [30]
Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-14 20:53:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14777058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Peter had heard the term before - a Gathering-In: an all-out effort to deliver help to those of Friends and Family when help was needed.  A Clan Gathering-In had been called when the men at Stalag 13 had been so ill, when London failed them; in response, aid was sent - supplies, doctors, what was needed to give relief.   A Clan Gathering-In had been called when the Heroes had come a cropper to that rogue unit in the mountains; Garrison and his team, including the next-oldest O'Donnell sister had answered the Call and pulled their command team out of the fire.  Now the war was over, but sometimes a Gathering-In was still needed; this time it was on a smaller scale, but just as much care and attention was given, because this time it was young Andrew who needed to be rescued, young Andrew who needed to be brought to safety.





	The Gathering-In of Andrew Carter

Returning home after the month at Haven was depressing, admitted Andrew Carter. He had put off giving Peter and Caeide a reply to the invitation he'd been given, to come to Haven permanently and become part of their family. No mistake, he had loved everything about Haven, and couldn't imagine a better place to live. He thought Peter was very lucky to have such a good home, with people who cared so much about him. In fact, he'd been rather upset with Colonel, well General, Hogan for trying to get Peter to leave; Andrew thought that had been awful mean and selfish, and he was not happy that Hogan would act that way, though not too terribly surprised either. Boy, it was really nice that Peter decided to stay at Haven, and not just because of his asking Andrew to come live there too. No, it's just that Peter seemed happy there, and Andrew thought it was an awfully good place, and Peter deserved a good place. Peter, of all people, deserved to finally be happy.

Thinking back, Andrew's lips tightened and his face was grim, "yes, he deserves that, after everything. And with everything Hogan had said when he found me in the pantry getting the canned pears for Maude, well, maybe me coming to Haven isn't such a good idea. I've got to really think about this, I can't mess things up for Peter. But, boy, I really liked it there, and they really seemed to like me being there too," he said rather sadly and wistfully, but the calico cat curled on the end of his bed didn't comment. He really wished she would; cats were smart, maybe Lucy could have given him some good advice.

In fact, everyone at Haven had made Andrew welcome and he'd been given the chance to become part of the daily routine, see what it would be like to really live there, not just act like a guest expecting to be entertained. He'd stayed in what they called 'family quarters', a room in the same hall as the others, that had the bedrooms and sitting rooms and office and library and stuff like that, not in the separate guest area like Hogan and the other guys had when they showed up that last week, even though there was enough space to have put them in family quarters if Caeide had wanted to. He didn't know it til toward the end, but there was actually a pocket door that could shut off, lock off the family side from the guest side.

He didn't stay inside like the other guys frequently did, like Hogan almost ALWAYS did. He didn't just talk about old times. He helped; he did things! He had been included in the discussion about making new quarters downstairs for Maude; it'd gotten too hard for her to keep making the trips up and down those steps, and her work in the kitchen and stillroom meant she made the trip several times a day, and his suggestions had been listened to just like everyone else's. He'd met Angie! He'd made friends with Caeidi's wolfhound, Estelle, and with Gracie, the house cat, and all the many barn cats (with so many different barns and storage buildings, there were LOTS of cats), and with the cart horse, and the plow horse, and the riding horses.

He'd helped Maude in the stillroom, "kinda like working in my laboratory again, Lucy," and he'd helped her brew her beer, and decant some of her experimental wine. She made him all kinds of good things to eat, even though she had to have him explain some of his food requests. Imagine, she'd never even heard of moon pies or barbeque! Still, she'd come up with some really good versions of even those favorites, once he'd explained them carefully, though she looked at him very strangely over the moon pies.

Marisol had let him help her with the chickens and ducks and turkeys, and they'd pulled out the poultry books in the library and talked about whether adding geese and guineas would be a good idea. The guineas had been his idea; one of his uncles had had guineas and although they were loud, they had a lot of good things going for them too. Decided yes on the guineas, though the eggs were so tiny they were only good for pickling, though it sounded like those'd be fun to eat. The meat was a bit strong flavored, but would be good for helping to make that broth powder that had helped keep the guys alive during a really bad spell at camp; they live mostly on forage and help keep down the ticks and lice that keep bothering the chickens and turkeys, according to the books, and my uncle said they were death on small snakes, like that adder that bit Caeide. They'd decided no on the geese, since no one liked the meat all that much, and the eggs tasted kinda funny, and they are so aggressive, and oh, boy, were they messy! 

Peter had pretty well taken over the office work from Caeide, and had shown him the various maps of the property, with all the overlays showing which grazing was used when, which crops were planted and why they rotated what they planted where. He'd talked about the new stone walled greenhouses they intended to add next year, and he'd explained the record books, the breeding charts, the charts showing who got enclave shares and what each member had requested and how they decided how things were divided out.

Peter had showed Andrew the extensive library, "find most anything you're looking for in 'ere, 'elp yourself." Andrew had taken him up on that, and Peter would have been very surprised at just how much Andrew had learned from that library! He felt really good about all that, especially after he heard Peter refusing to take Hogan in there as well as the office, telling Hogan that only FAMILY set foot in the office, no one else. Well, he'd been in there lots, sometimes with Peter and Caeide, but they'd let him go in there to study the maps and everything whenever he wanted to and never said a word against it. In fact, when Peter sat down to talk to Louie and Kinch, he'd never taken them in there either; they'd gone to that big table in the corner downstairs, or the back porch, but never the library or the office. Huh. 

Peter had shown him the training rooms, where the youngsters would be taught weapons fighting, hand-to-hand combat, and the long room used for practicing shooting, throwing knives, and even shooting with a bow and arrows. He'd learned that Peter also planned to teach his own specialities: pickpocketing, working a deck of cards, a drawing class or two, even, if his hands cooperated, though they weren't in any condition to yet, and he admitted somewhat reluctantly, they might never be again; he said the safework would be taught by Alfie the Artiste, whom Andrew had met in Stalag 13, if the old man was still willing; they'd send the youngsters up to London for that, though, most likely.

Caeide worked with the big stock, cattle, sheep, goats, a few pigs, and he'd been with her when she moved the sheep from the high pasture to the lower one, and when she'd sheared that first batch; that had been a nasty, smelly job, but it felt good to help, and to learn why and how the wool from this group was different that the others, and what she'd hoped to gain from this new herd. She'd shown him yarn from each herd, shown him cloth woven from each; had him feel the difference. 

Caeide and Marisol had been really careful to make sure he understood this was a working farm; that the animals all had a purpose, and although they were all well treated and had a good life, the stock would be harvested, or sometimes sold, just like the crops. Wool for cloth and yarn, cow hides for leather, goatskin for gloves, milk for drinking, cooking and baking, and for cheese, eggs, meat, feathers, even bones for soup stock or crushed for fertilizer. Nothing would be wasted. Horses would occasionally be sold, though not often since she was trying to build up a base herd, feeder pigs, young chicks and poults, sheep and calves and goats the same, though Caeide being very particular about who she was willing to sell to.

He learned how that Sustain was made, and he remembered how it had helped keep them alive during that awful time at the camp, and he thought about how good it had to feel to have a hand in making something so useful, and also how revolting it smelled while cooking, so much so they did the cooking in a special shed well away from the main house.

He helped groom the horses. He'd helped with the milking, too, though he wasn't very good at it; his hands weren't strong enough, experienced enough. Peter had teased him, and he remembered how embarrassed he'd been when Peter told him at supper one night how he'd gotten the appropriate training in his younger days; Andrew had turned red, and had glanced around, had been afraid Caeide and the other two women would be upset and take offense, but they'd just laughed, with Maude saying, "always the braggart, that lad. Ta hear him tell it, wasn't a pair marched thru London he didn't have his hands on!" And Caeidi had taken the opportunity to lean over Peter's shoulder, grin, and whisper something in his ear, something that had made Peter blush and laugh, though Andrew was pretty sure it was the tiny kiss and touch of her tongue behind his ear that made him shudder like that, and make his eyelids drop for just a moment. He had to wonder what that felt like, though he also felt himself blush at that thought!

Peter and he had talked about the days in Stalag 13, and sometimes about their missions, but more often about the little things that came to mind. They talked about watching the star shower together, keeping that rabbit in the tunnel, and Freddy, the chimpanzee from the zoo, and how upset the guys had gotten when Andrew had brought in Jilly, that little green snake, and sharing cigarettes, and getting stuck in the tunnel when he and Peter had got caught in a cave-in.

"That's one of the times Peter called me 'Andrew, luv', Lucy, though he denied it afterwards; still I know he did. I don't remember everything, I don't think I was really awake for the whole time, what with getting hurt in the cave-in and the air getting kinda thin. But I remember that, and I remember him holding me up close to keep me warm, and leaning over me when those last rocks came falling down, when the guys were digging us out, so they'd hit him instead of me."

Andrew didn't even want to think about the other time he'd heard those words, that time when Peter had thrown himself between him and those guards; Peter could have died that night, horribly, trying to protect him. Andrew still had nightmares about that night, not that he'd let Peter know that. He didn't think he would have survived if Peter had died because of him. He remembered the other times he'd held Peter, or Peter had held him, comforting each other, helping each other survive; the warm hugs he'd received here at Haven brought all that back, and he relished the hugs, even as he ached at some of the memories, at the remembered pain.

He remembered dreams, dreams of Peter, of Haven, of Caeide, and wondered just how real those dreams had been, and he regretted not bringing them up during his stay, to see if they remembered them as well.

No, Andrew just didn't know if his moving to Haven would be good for the family and he wasn't going to do anything that would mess that up for Peter. Though Caeide hadn't seemed to mind that Peter was openly affectionate with him, more than maybe you'd expect two guys to be, but that was on a visit. She hadn't minded in the dreams, he remembered that, and in that one dream, she'd even . . . And he blushed as he remembered, even as he gave a wide grin.

She hadn't seemed to mind when Peter and Hogan had disappeared into the guest room with the door locked, either, even though Andrew knew she didn't like or trust Hogan; in fact Andrew had caught her teasing Peter about remembering to leave enough energy for chores and meals, though there was a sort of sad apprehension in the back of her eyes when she'd said that. 

Of course, Peter and Hogan had a long-established relationship, the real stuff, not the occasional hug and warm smiles, and, a couple of really special sweet kisses, and oh, that one time he and Peter were in disguise pretending to be that old couple, and they'd really let things get out of control in that hotel room waiting for the resistance to deliver those files and they had to fool the Gestapo. He still blushed when he thought about that; {"Peter never mentioned it, and neither did I. I mean, what do you say, "Uh, that was really, uh, I really liked, uh. Well, anyway, we never said anything, and it never happened again, but I wouldn't have minded, well, except for how the Colonel would have reacted if he'd found out. But if I lived there all the time, is that something that would happen again, or something that Peter would expect to happen, or would he get mad if he figured I'd really like that, or maybe even other stuff, to happen??"}

Andrew knew there was other stuff, he'd known that in the camp, though he'd been kinda mixed up on when something was okay and when it wasn't, til Caeide and Meghada had straightened him out about how, at least the way they saw it, it wasn't so much what happened, but about the difference between consent and sharing, and no consent and taking, and that made sense to him, so he understood better. He'd done some reading once he got home, though there wasn't much available, of course, so he still had lots of questions, questions he didn't dare ask anyone, not at home for sure. Some of the books in the big library at Haven had expanded his education even more, especially that big portfolio of drawings.

{"Heck, a lot more! I mean, boy! And that one small book, it explained a whole lot, stuff I'd never even thought about! They never talked about ANY of that in my high school Health class!!"} 

Andrew thought that maybe Caeide would be okay if something like that happened between him and Peter on a visit, maybe, but maybe she wouldn't like it if he was there all the time, and if it happened a lot. And he wasn't Hogan either, he wasn't charming and gracious and all that, able to talk so sweet and all, all that stuff that most women, heck, most people liked, able to wheedle, manipulate into letting him get his way. Well, not HER, Hogan had never had much success in that line with HER, that was part of the problem, probably.

Course, after the tricks Hogan had tried to pull during those last few days in Haven, he was glad he wasn't Hogan; he doubted Caeide's opinion of Hogan was very good right now, not that it ever had been really, he knew Maude and Marisol's sure wasn't, and Andrew figured Peter would be better off waiting awhile before inviting Hogan again. Actually, Andrew was in favor of that himself; he'd even asked Maudie to let him know if it looked like Hogan was coming back, or started trying to get Peter to leave again, that he'd need to talk to Peter or Caeide before that happened. Maude had a strange look on her face, but had nodded at him, and said, "Aye, lad, I'll do that for sure," and had kissed him on the cheek.

***If Peter could have heard that inner conversation, his eyes would have crossed; Andrew always had had a way of tying himself, and everyone around him, in verbal knots!

Andrew had also noted and appreciated that Peter and the others treated him like an adult, albeit a slightly clumsy chattering adult. If they teased him once in awhile, it was in a loving way, like they teased each other, gently, never mean or nasty, nothing that made him feel, well, less. Just like they teased Caeide about her lists, or Peter about his complaining, or Maude about her thinking hot sweet tea the answer to most any problem, or Marisol about that farmer in the next valley, ninety if he was a day, but always after her to 'step out' with him, things like that. In fact, that teasing had made him feel all warm and safe inside, somehow, like he belonged.

Around here, anymore seemed like people tended to act like he was simple-witted; he didn't think they'd always treated him like that, but maybe he just hadn't noticed before he went away to war. After all, it was home, and he was just kinda used to how things were. Mom had always treated him like her little boy, but he thought that was just how Moms were. His cousins were all older, so it was okay that they all thought they were smarter than he was, and although he handled the job at the drugstore just fine and old Mr. Perkins didn't complain, he didn't give him anything really complicated to do, and of course, he wasn't a pharmacist so he wasn't allowed to mix medicines and compounds and such.

No one would have believed everything he'd made in his underground lab, he knew, or all the impersonations he'd done, or well, everything else; he didn't try to tell them; they'd just think he was making up stories, even if he had blown up part of his high school once. That wasn't anything like running secret missions against the Nazi's, though part of it had been almost as loud as some of his explosions. Still, it seemed like it had gotten really bad since he'd come home after the war.

He'd been so happy to be coming back, only to find out his Mom had passed a couple of months before and his favorite cousin Jase had been killed just a few weeks earlier; mail had been totally out of whack the past few months, and he'd never gotten word. While he was still in shock over that, he found out that Cousin Lucille and Cousin Edmund had sold the house he and his Mom had lived in; they said Mom had needed a lot of care, and the money was needed to pay the bills. Well, sure, whatever his Mom had needed, of course; but still, to walk past that little brown house on the corner and know he couldn't just walk in the side door like before, that hurt every time. Even all their stuff was gone; Lucille had sent all the older good stuff to the antique store to be sold (to cover more bills, she said), and the rest had just disappeared. He thought he'd recognized the sideboard from the living room when he went to Cousin Edmund's to see where he stood, but Cousin Edmund had told him, "no, we just had one a lot like your Mom's". Andrew wasn't quite sure he believed him, though.

With his first paycheck from the drugstore (Mr Perkins had given him his old job back, and let him live in the little room above the store, deducting the rent from his pay), he'd gone to the antique store and bot a couple of things that'd come from their house. It was just some pictures in their frames, and his mom's scuffed up rocking chair from the front porch that first time; that was all he could afford, his rent taking most of that paycheck, and him still needing to buy food and other things.

Since then he'd added a few things; he'd saved up and he'd been able to buy Aunt Nedda's little braided rug, and the woven rug that had been a gift to him from his grandmother on his father's side, and a quilt from his grandmother on his Mom's side; it had been kinda torn, so it hadn't cost too much. The woven rug he used as a cover on his bed, the quilt he rolled up and put a case over it and used it at the head of his bed for a pillow. That made it feel like he was surrounded by family, and he slept better after he did that.

Everything else was still there, but was marked too high for him; maybe sometime he could get another piece or two, maybe that box of books from his room. The family bible, he'd seen it there, but he couldn't see the price, and was embarrassed to ask. His father's watch was there, he knew; he'd seen it in that big glass display case; he'd really like to have that, but it was way too expensive; it'd take forever to save enough for that, like his mom's mantle clock. Those quilts from Mom and Aunt Nedda, they were really beautiful and he'd NEVER be able to afford them; he'd seen the price tags and they were, well, not many people WOULD be able to afford them, which is why they were still there probably.

The little bit of furniture in his room he'd picked up here and there; the narrow bed had come with the apartment, and he'd found a footlocker like he was used to using at camp, only a lot smaller, and a funny lamp with a tasseled shade to sit on it. A little student's desk served as a table, propped up on blocks of wood to make it tall enough, and he only needed the one chair since he never had company, and besides there wasn't room for another one anyway.

He'd kinda gotten used to the room and to the way everyone kinda ignored him, or talked down to him, but now, after being at Haven, it really kinda upset him. How was it that, at Haven he was a fairly smart and likeable guy, someone people would talk to and ask his opinion, and joke with and even hug sometimes, or give a kiss on the cheek, and really seem to want to have around, and even make him special things to eat, and show him all kinds of neat stuff, and just kinda not there when he was back home? Even being able to pat and hug Charlie, the scruffy alley dog he'd befriended, and having Lucy, the drugstore cat, come curl up on his bed at night didn't seem enough anymore. Still, he put off making a real decision, deciding just not to think about it for awhile. A week passed, then two.

Then, the call came from Peter and Caeide; he didn't have a phone, so the call came in on the drugstore phone, and Mr. Perkins wasn't too happy about him getting a call, especially during the work day, though if it hadn't come then, there wouldn't have been anyone to answer the phone since Andrew couldn't hear it from his room upstairs, so Andrew didn't see why Mr. Perkins made such a big deal out of it.

It was really awkward, he thought later; there was so much he needed to say or ask, but he couldn't figure out how, especially with Mr. Perkins listening to his every word, so there were these big empty spaces in their conversation.

"Yes, I'm okay. No, the trip didn't tire me out too much." That was about it on his side.

Finally, though, Caeide had just come right out with it, "Andrew, we both, we all, really really want you to come. We've missed you dreadfully, and we think you could be happy here. Please?"

And Peter had made his decision for him when he said, "Andrew, luv, please. I need you 'ere." Andrew knew it was the "Andrew, luv," combined with the "I need you" that had decided it for him; it seemed like he'd been waiting to hear that for a very long time now, maybe his whole life. Between them, he figured Peter and Caeide had answered all his questions, even the ones he hadn't thought of asking yet, or didn't even know TO ask, and if they hadn't, well it could all be worked out.

So he'd said "Yes!", and they had all laughed.

Andrew could see Mr. Perkins frowning over at him, tapping his wrist watch, and he knew he had to hurry; he told Peter and Caeide that his boss was getting impatient, and Caeide promised to be there in just a couple of days to collect him and his things; that he should wait til she got there to tell anyone though.

{"Guess maybe they figured out how things are around here; we talked a lot some of those nights. I know the cousins might try to cause trouble. I wasn't the best in keeping my mouth shut, back in camp, but this is too important to mess up, so I just won't talk to anyone if I don't have to!"} 

He hung up the phone and thanked Mr. Perkins for letting him use it, and agreed to stay overtime to make up the difference. Mr. Perkins said something about the charges for the call, too, but Andrew couldn't see how there'd have been any charges, it hadn't been a collect call. He went thru the rest of the day, busy and productive, but not speaking unless he was spoken to. Around closing time his cousins showed up; seems Mr. Perkins had told them about the call, though he couldn't have learned much just from the few words Andrew had said. He just said an old war buddy had called to see if he was okay, and treated all the other questions like he didn't understand them; they already thought he was stupid, so it didn't matter anymore, and he decided he didn't like them anyway, and now that he remembered, his mom and dad hadn't seemed to like them much either.

That night Andrew sat on his narrow mattress and starting making a list. He had an account at the bank, just a few dollars, but it was in his name and he might need it. He needed to see the old house once more. He needed to visit his Mom and tell her what was happening so she'd know why he didn't come visit her anymore. He had some clothes and personal stuff, not much. He had the broken down furniture; he could leave that. He'd take the few family pieces he'd rescued, if Caeide thought they'd have room. The only things he'd be leaving behind that he'd miss would be Charlie and Lucy; it made him sad to think of it, because no one else really cared about them, not like he did. He read over his list, and grinning, tore it up into tiny pieces and swallowed it. "Just like old times!"

He was careful the next day not to do anything that might make anyone suspicious; he knew by now the cousins were sneaks, and Mr. Perkins had a key to the apartment. Still, he folded all his clothes and put them in the footlocker, and then the few odds and ends he'd want to take, just to make sure they would fit, and they did, cause he didn't have much, so he unfolded the clothes and put them back on the hooks behind the door, though he left the odds and ends in there. That wouldn't look suspicious, he figured, since it was a logical place to store things anyway; he figured he could fold the quilt and the woven rug; the little oval braided rug could fold in half. He'd looked for and found a box that those could all fit in, and brought it up to the room and squeezed it into the space between his bed and the wall, upside down, like it was a little bedside table, and put a book and ash tray on it so it looked right. The rocking chair - well, he might not be able to take that; it would make him sad since it reminded him of his Mom, but he knew she'd understand why he'd have to leave it.

Still, by the time night rolled around, he was getting really nervous, and he didn't sleep much. He dreamed of the camp, though, when he did fall sleep, of Peter, and one of those nights when he was upset and couldn't sleep, and Peter had talked him through it, telling him stories. And he thought maybe he'd dreamed of Caeide, and her holding him tight against the cold and comforting him, and he did finally fall into a deep sleep. 

Luckily the next day was his one half-day off from the drugstore; he didn't start work til 1:00. Early in the morning, he'd walked around to their old house, to take one last look; he took cuttings of the lilacs that were hanging over the fence; those had been their favorites, him and his Mom, and he thought they might grow where he was going, and he thought Caeide would like them too. He went to the cemetery and sat down crosslegged in the damp grass to whisper his news to his Mom; he knew she'd be happy for him and keep his secret; he'd already told her all about Peter when he got back the first time, everything about Peter, cause he and his Mom didn't keep secrets from each other, and of course she knew about him from all his letters; then about Peter and Caeide and Haven and the invitation and everything when he got back this last time, so he knew she'd understand. 

He was petting Charlie in the alley, trying to let him know how much he'd miss him, when he saw the small closed van arrive. It parked off the alley, and Caeide got out, with a dark husky man Andrew thought he'd seen before, and then recognized as one of the two doctors, both Caeide's brothers, who'd parachuted in to help them. Caeide saw him and eased her way over to him, and when out of sight of the street, gathered him into a warm hug.

"Dear, I couldn't have Peter come; that old business with the military, you know. He'll be waiting for us when we get home. I brought my brother Michael to help." She frowned teasingly up at the dark-haired man who had walked over to them, "He can be an annoying one, most often, but has a way of getting people to do what he wants them to do, whether they like it or not. Thought he might come in handy, one way or the other. Now, can we go someplace private and talk about what needs to be done?" 

He took them up the back stairs to his little apartment; Caeide looked around carefully, her face without expression. {"This is how he's been living? Peter's Andrew??? Bout time we got him out of here!"}

The little room had probably been a small storeroom at one time; was not more than half as big as the smallest bedroom at Haven and that had been intended for a short-stay by one of the Clan youngsters; here there was no window at all, a collection of battered furniture ready to be discarded, probably HAD been discarded before being pressed into use here, and a small collection of his treasures. Michael leaned against the wall while Caeide took his only chair, his mom's rocking chair, Andrew had explained; Andrew perched on the side of the bed.

"What do you want to take with you? We can take some things now, and send back for others if need be," though looking around, she doubted that would be needed, unless he had things in storage. He'd told them about the house being sold, and things going to consignment, but she just hadn't thought it was this bad.

"You'll be glad of your family things with you; you're lucky that you have them; Maude, Marisol and Peter lost everything in the bombing. You said there were other things still at the antique store that you fancied. Let's us go round up what we can find, shall we? You'll have your own suite at Haven, you know, sitting room and bedroom, and there's the common area that could always use a warm touch, if there's no room left in your spot and you'd want to share," she smiled over at him warmly.

He flushed with embarrassment, "I don't really need anything else. I have some stuff here; if I can take the quilt, and what I have in the footlocker, the rugs, and Mom's rocking chair, I'll be real happy." He didn't want to tell her he didn't have the money to buy any of their stuff back, but she already knew that.

She pulled him into a fierce hug, gritting her teeth against the need to find his cousins and have a serious word with them, oh, alright, she wanted to thump them really good!

"Andrew, you'll get shares from the farm now, of course, like everyone else, but you've a right to have, well, let's call it a start-up allowance. We've ordered in proper clothing, boots, and the odds and ends you'll need to start, and we can fill in the rest as we know more what you need. We always expected to see what we could retrieve for you, you know; I brought cash for that, and my brother to help carry," as she gave Michael a quick smile.

"Now, what else needs to be done? Tell me while you get your things packed into the footlocker."

He repeated his list for her, "close out my account at the bank, tell Mr. Perkins I'm quitting and moving out, get my stuff together, say goodby to Charlie and Lucy." Then he had to explain who Charlie and Lucy were, which since there were animals involved and since it was Andrew took awhile.

"That's about it. I didn't do any of that before, so's no one would find out," he said with something approaching the grin she'd come to expect, had hoped to see return, on his sweet face.

"Good lad," she laughed, rumpling his hair, for all the world like Peter did, "first, the antique store. Mind you, don't skip anything you've a fancy for, Andrew! We'll not have another chance, you know. Here, this is how we'll play it ," as she explained how to run the con, thinking that making it more of a 'mission' or a game might make it easier, both to accomplish and easier on Andrew to deal with, give him something to keep his mind occupied, his face from giving anything away. "Come along, Michael." Andrew though Michael didn't talk very much, but maybe his sister just didn't give him the opportunity. 

At the antique store, she and her brother played the superior city folk come to buy up bargains from the hicks. Looking around in some disdain, "I hadn't intended to stop in here, but this young man says you have some nice things," she sneered, "I asked him to point them out."

"Well, now, Miss, don't know that you need him to do that," with a frown at Andrew, "I'll be happy to show you around."

He looked at the woman and found himself looking into very cold, distant eyes, and backed up a couple of steps and gulped, as she looked down her nose at him somehow, though he was a good six inches taller than she was, and said, "Yes, well, he'll stay with me anyway; he can help carry things, if I find anything worthwhile. And since he made a point of it, I'd like to see just how well he can recognize 'nice things'!" 

As they made their way thru the store, Andrew would point out many things, but quietly signal her when there was something of his family's that he wanted; she took note of the symbol on the tag and after a couple of items, figured that little shape meant it came from the Carter house; she kept track of those things while pretty much ignoring all the other items he indicated as a red herring, or that the storekeeper kept pressing her to buy. When she got the sign from Andrew that he was finished, she turned to the annoying man beside her and said, "very well, this is what I'll take," and she walked around pointing invariably at the items Andrew had noted. She even included his father's watch, which she'd seen him hesitate over but NOT point out, it being priced what seemed to him to be so very high, along with his mother's mantle clock, not to mention those absolutely lovely quilts. Yes, she'd seen the longing in his eyes when he looked at those, had checked the tag, and knew; though he'd not pointed those out, she knew it was because of the prices.

"Add them up, and quickly please. I've taken enough time here, I've other things to do, places I actually intended to shop at."

Andrew would have been somewhat hurt at the idea she thought this was a nuisance, but he knew it was just part of her act, especially when she gave him a quick wink and his hand a warm squeeze, out of sight of the storekeeper. He decided he already loved her, "{well, not love her like Peter loves her, but still..."} he blushed. Still, he wondered again what that little kiss and touch of her tongue he'd seen her give Peter would feel like behind HIS ear. 

Stunned at the amount of the purchases the woman had made, the owner quickly added up the bill and eagerly reached for the money she held out to him. He was so excited about the prices on those tags and the grand total, he didn't pay much attention to the symbols. It would only be the next day, when he posted the items in his records, that he would realize these were all items from the Carter house, in fact, ALL the remaining items that had come from the Carter house, and he would get a very uneasy feeling that he'd been outfoxed, especially when he learned from Mr. Perkins that Andrew had left with the couple, just packed up and moved out. He really hoped the cousins didn't get wind of this, all those things from the house leaving with Andrew, and take it wrong; they'd be really annoyed, he thought, even though they'd be getting their share of the consignment, of course. Hopefully they wouldn't blame him for any of that; they weren't people you wanted to get on their bad side, and they'd been acting real funny about Andrew since he'd come back from the war.

"Michael, you and this young man, get these into the vehicle please," had them scurrying to follow her instructions. Very soon, things were loaded.

{"Truly, it wasn't so very much. Another three quilts, a mantle clock, a wooden chest that looked like it had once belonged in a young boy's room with a few carved wooden toys inside, another that looked like a bride's hope chest with some handmade lace inside, two boxes of books, a man's watch (she'd seen how his wistful eyes had lingered over that, and the other things he'd NOT pointed out, like the clock and the quilts) a watercolor of a young woman, a family bible. Not much to sum up his history. And there wouldn't have been that much if he'd been better at hiding how much he wanted those more expensive items. Well, they weren't really so VERY expensive, considering they were very good quality, but to his mind, with what he'd been getting paid, I imagine he considered them far out of reach. There was probably more, already sold off and long gone, all the bigger furniture surely. Still, he'll have what it's possible for him to have to make a new start."} 

At her suggestion, they drove by his old home; Caeide had been suspicious of the sale by his cousins to cover the supposed medical expenses, and she wanted to get a good look at the place, to see its size, location, condition. Wanted to find out who had bought it, and if the price they'd paid was the same amount Andrew had been told it was. Wanted to find out the true extent of those medical expanses and final expenses too. She would put someone to work in finding out the price of the house, what one of its type and location SHOULD have sold for, and what those expenses actually had been; with any luck, and her bulldog of a cousin on the case, she might be able to let Andrew recoup some of those proceeds; Haven would provide for all his needs, as it did for the rest of them, but it would make him feel better, she thought, with some of his own money behind him to add to that little register book.

A quick stop at the bank closed Andrew's account, a pitiful few dollars now tucked into his wallet. She reminded him to change his address at the post office, handing him a slip of paper with a 'pass through' address; any mail sent there would be forwarded to him by the Clan, no direct trail leading to him anymore. He could read or toss whatever he wanted, though she'd hesitated at leaving even that much of a link to his nasty cousins. Still, there might be more benign people needing to reach him, she thought. Always time to cancel that link if he chose to in the future, she told him with a comforting smile.

At her suggestion, they went back to the apartment and finished moving his few items to the truck, packing things into his trunks, rolling and tying the rugs. Basically, they ended up with the two packed trunks containing quilts and pictures, clock and bible, plus the footlocker from his room containing his clothes and personal things,the books, the rolled rugs and the rocking chair. 

She wanted to take him by the cemetery, but he told her he'd already said his goodbyes.

She smiled at him and said, "yes, dear, but there's some things I need to discuss with your Mother, too, you know. It's only polite and proper, and I'll not have another opportunity, at least, not here."

His eyes widened, and then at the cemetery, he listened to her with wonderment as she solemnly assured his Mom that she and Peter, as well as Maude and Marisol, dearly loved Andrew; that they were taking him to live with them, that he'd willingly agreed to do so, that they needed him, for his own sake, for what he could bring to the family, and he'd always have a place where he was valued and cherished, where he was part of a strong family.

Somehow, Andrew thought his Mom was smiling at all of that, perhaps nodding her head in approval. She'd always worried about him, he knew that, just like most moms did, and while he'd explained everything earlier, it meant something, it meant a lot, that Caeide had wanted to come and reassure her.

{"That's another thing,"} she thought angrily, {"a shabby wooden cross, when everywhere else there's a headstone? They couldn't have taken a bit of the house money for that, even? Well, there'll be one before long; we'll have a photograph taken, for Andrew to keep!"} Then, they proceeded to the drugstore. 

It was almost 1:00 now, and Mr. Perkins was expecting Andrew to come down the inner stairs anytime now. He was intending to grill the young man again about that phone call; the cousins had insisted, and he didn't want to get crosswise of them; they could get right nasty, he knew. He was shocked when he saw Andrew enter through the front door, ahead of a stern-faced young couple.

"Andrew, move yourself out of the way. Don't you see you're blocking the customers?" he said gruffly, reaching out roughly to pull Andrew to the side. Michael figured he'd best handle this quickly. His sister was already on a tight string over this lad she'd seemingly adopted, and she was just waiting to take someone's head off. He'd not seen her so angry, so tightly controlled in a long time, though someone who didn't know her would not be able to see any of that. He, on the other hand, knew her quite well, knew what she was capable of, and wanted to avoid anything setting her off. Obviously there was much he didn't understand about this whole situation, but he knew he'd prefer to get them all gone and on their way before she let loose; he was a doctor, didn't mean he relished the sight of blood and such. He moved to block Mr. Perkins from touching Andrew.

"Do keep your hands to yourself, sir. Andrew, please tell Mr. Perkins what you've come to say and let's be off, shall we?" His jaw dropping in shock, Mr. Perkins heard Andrew speaking his piece, formally, like he'd memorized it; knowing Andrew, he probably had.

"Mr. Perkins, I hereby resign. And I've moved out of the apartment; you're welcome to any of the furniture if you want it. And, I know I should have given you a notice, so you can keep my last week's pay since I didn't do that." Caeide gave a roll of her eyes; she clearly thought that was going too far, but if it made Andrew feel better, well, whatever. 

Andrew was so relieved to get this done, and so happy that his cousins hadn't shown up, he felt as if his knees were about to give out. Leaving Mr. Perkins there in the aisle, looking dumbfounded, like he'd been caught in one of Andrew's explosions, wondering just what the cousins would say, together the three made their way back to the truck, locked and waiting for them by the alley.

"Andrew dear, anything else that needs doing, anything else you need, you want to take with you? We probably need to make a bit of haste now." Caeidi told him gently. They all knew he wouldn't be coming back. Andrew gulped, and looked down at Charlie, who had come over for another pat. Lucy had followed them from the drugstore, and was rubbing up against his legs.

{"I can't ask her that, can I? Besides, Lucy sort of lives at the drugstore, though Mr. Perkins doesn't claim her."}

Caeidi, knowing Andrew and his love for animals, understood, grinned and said, "OK, one dog, one cat, coming aboard." His incredulous look, then his wild grin and enthusiastic hug was more than thanks enough for her; {"Haven is certainly big enough for this lot"}, she though, as she hugged him close, {"and we'll be all the better for their coming,"}, though what Estelle might think of Charlie, she hesitated to guess. She wasn't so worried about Gracie; cats just seemed more resigned to the realities of life, she thought. 

She paused to look at him, laid her hand along his cheek, feeling this young man, Peter's love, touch her deep inside in ways she hadn't expected, didn't understand, and she marveled at the feeling, though her dream, the faces on some of those children, had given her a hint of this.

Michael looked at her curiously, seeing the confusion, the bewilderment, the growing knowledge in his sister's eyes, now a startled eyebrow rising, him starting to realize there was far more to this gathering in than he'd imagined. He made a note to start visiting more often, to keep pace with how it all played out. He had a feeling that Haven might be in for a bit of a surprise, all around! He could hardly wait!

Not knowing how fast the cousins, any other local authorities might decide to interfere, they lost no time driving to the small airport where their plane awaited them, and Michael arranged for Andrew's belongings to be moved to another vehicle. He waved at them as they took off, his brother Ian piloting, Caeide, Andrew, and the assorted livestock; he'd give anything to see Peter's face when he saw that lot. He laughed to himself, climbed into the second vehicle and drove off in another direction, to get Andrew's belongings loaded onto another small plane, leaving that first vehicle to be dealt with by others, at a later time. Probably not necessary, all that fuss, he thought to himself, but better safe than not, and as he'd thought before, he really didn't want to see his sister on a tear!

The plane landed on the track above Haven; the other goods had arrived a bit earlier by a different plane, one without seats in the back, but his father's watch had traveled with them in the small plane, along with Charlie and Lucy. Both had seemed content, as long as Andrew was with them, and the journey had been relatively calm.

From the window in Andrew's room, where he was arranging the books and wooden toys on the bookcase, Peter saw the plane coming in for a landing; he was surprised to find his hands were trembling. "Please, Andrew, be on that plane!" Although he'd heard by the radio that he would be, he couldn't rest easy, really believe it til he saw him here, safe and sound!

By the time he made his way halfway up the path, Caeide and Andrew, Caeide's brother Ian, and for some reason he didn't yet fathom but about which he was sure he'd hear at some length, a tortoise-shell cat and a scruffy brown dog, had come far enough to meet him. He took Caeide in his arms and kissed her hello, with a fervent "Thank you!" whispered in her ear, as he gave her a tight hug.

He looked down at his Andrew, touching him on the cheek softly, then drawing him ever so gently into his arms, "Welcome home, Andrew luv!"

 

***

It was late at night, and Andrew should have been fast asleep after his long and eventful day. But for right now, he was content to just sit there wearing one of Peter's soft flannel shirts, propped up in the big, full size bed made up with crisp linens and a warm blanket and a really pretty quilt Maude and Marisol had just finished and now given to him as a welcoming present. His pillows, three big fluffy ones, were stuffed with feathers from Haven's own ducks, along with the fat one stuffed with wool teasings to give better support for reading in bed. His Mom's rocking chair sat in the corner, a pretty wool throw Caeide had made tossed over the back. His books were on the big bookcase up against the wall, along with his Mom's mantle clock and those wooden toys he'd played with as a small boy. The lace pieces had needed mending, and Maude had taken those to work on in her spare time, and then they'd frame them behind glass. His grandmother's bride chest was at the foot of his bed, holding the other quilts for now, though Caeide said they could fix quilt racks on the walls so they could be hung where he could see them, and he thought he'd like that, except the one in the colors that kinda matched what the big room downstairs looked like, he'd asked if they could hang it there, and Caeide had been really pleased at that idea, he could tell. The little watercolor would be reframed too, and the family bible sat on the little table beside the rocking chair, like where his Mom had kept it when she sat outside to read. The little braided rug was beside his bed on one side, the woven rug on the other.

Charlie was sleeping on the braided one; Lucy was curled at the end of his bed, almost resting on his feet. The window was shuttered now, but Peter had shown him how to open it, and from there he could see the orchards and the cliffs and the fields, and if he looked just right, he could see the ocean.

There was a closet to one side, and when he peeked in, there were two pairs of boots in his size, and shirts and pants, and a light jacket and a heavy one, and oh, he didn't know what all! The chest at the side held other stuff, all to fit him. He didn't remember having too much really NEW stuff, stuff not handed over from his cousins, well, except for his uniforms of course, so that was all really kinda neat. Though he kinda thought he'd like to keep this flannel shirt of Peter's to sleep in; wearing it was almost like having Peter right there, hugging him. His room was just as big as any of the others, except for Caeide's, and there was a little sitting room that adjoined it, with a loveseat and a couple of chairs, and other things. His little chest from his room at home, and the little footlocker were both in there, next to the fireplace, one to each side. Andrew got to the end of the inventory, and in wonder, started all over again.

He'd left his door cracked, at Peter's suggestion, and Peter had done the same, just in case Andrew woke and was startled at being in a strange place, though Haven wasn't really a strange place, not anymore. Across the hall he heard that oh so familiar little snuffling snore, and he grinned to himself. Home, he thought to himself, almost unable to believe it; he was finally home. He fell asleep still propped against those pillows, with a smile on his face.


End file.
